


Episode One: Skyrim

by JateGreen



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:27:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23153242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JateGreen/pseuds/JateGreen
Summary: A girl escapes her slave ship and tries to find her way in the Province of Skyrim
Comments: 1





	Episode One: Skyrim

Those were the days of warm blood that flowed and cold steel that flashed. The old hatreds between the kingdoms and races of men awoke in fiery division that would not be cooled by any wind of Oblivion. Those were the days when the chief of Dragons, the World-Eater, chose to enslave the races once again. It began in the province of Skyrim. If a hero should not arise in this time, who knew how long the chaos of that land would be able to be contained? Surely the old hatreds will consume us all. In those days there were few who knew where she was from originally. Indeed, there were only a handful who still remembered the name and what it signified. It would not be long though before the whole of Tamriel knew her, and either rejoiced or cursed the mention of her name.

Dark waters below, the wind catching the salt spray over boxes and chests of cargo, the flapping of the sails above. The sweaty men moving about the ship, carrying out their daily orders from the captain. They were to put into port within the hour and certain preparations had to be made to safeguard the provisions their ship kept deep within the confines of the hull. Their purpose was a dangerous game and one that the captain had played and won for many a long year.  
The captain walked the deck with his first mate as the shore came ever nearer and he listened patiently to the Orc’s concerns. “I’m telling you Cap’n, it’s a bad business getting mixed up with this new uprising in Skyrim. These Stormcloaks do not yet have a firm enough grip on any of its holds to warrant our attention. What if the Imperials find out? They may cancel our contract that allows us our business inside of Hammerfell.” The captain nodded expansively and looked out across the bow of his ship, black eyes scanning the surface of the sea. “Aye, Yamarash, so you’ve told me before.” “I tell it as it is, Cap’n. I tell it because of the truth it rings in my heart.” The captain sighed a little and turned towards him. “Your concerns are valid, my old friend, but civil wars make ours a very lucrative business. Our contract from the Jarl of Windhelm is triple the gold that any Imperial trading has earning us so far this year.” He came closer now, lowering his voice so as to be out of the hearing of the rest of the men, “And you know as well as I that a little extra now fills mine and your pockets all the more during our off season. Think of it, Yamarash, what could you do with an extra seven hundred gold this winter?” The Orc said nothing. The captain’s job was to trade with the highest bidder and Jarl Ulfric had come out way ahead of anyone else. Any and all ventures of theirs had contained some measure of risk but this one, he felt, was perilous in the extreme.  
“Ah, well, I still don’t like it,” the Orc grumped. The captain spat something greenish on the deck. His patience was coming to its end. “I don’t care what you do and don’t like, Yamarash, unless it is obeying the orders of your captain. Do I make myself clear?” The Orc came to attention at once, “Yes, sir, your judgment is correct, as always.” The captain gave him a hard look and then nodded curtly. “Ah, don’t be like that. We’ve known each other too long.” He motioned for them to walk along the deck. “When we do reach land,” the Orc said, “who am I sending with the wagons this time?” The grizzled man thought for a moment and then said, “send Falnuin and Dort and allow them to have their choice of slave that goes with them this time.” “Sir?” “Men work better with perks, my friend, and what better perk for a pair of strong, bulky Redguard than a tasty morsel of meat, eh?” The captain threw his head back and enjoyed a long, loud laugh, which made the Orc burst out as well. Their laughter carried with them as they walked into their living quarters.  
One of the slaves, who had quickly come over to clean the greenish goo the captain had decorated the deck of the ship with, had heard the entire conversation. She did not know who Ulfric was and she did not care. She only knew she had to be on that wagon with Falnuin and Dort when they rode it into Skyrim. It could mean all the difference between freedom or another year’s labor aboard the trading vessel. Skyrim was wild and sparsely populated enough if the rumors could be believed. It was here that she would make her move.  
* * *  
She found Dort shoveling excrement off the side of the ship. She was absolutely repulsed by the man but he would hold more authority with the captain than Falniun, who had only been hired last season. When he saw her he put down his shovel, leaning an arm on the top of it and letting his fingers hang where they would. “Well, if it isn’t the petite Breton. Come to do your business? You’ll have to wait until I’m through.” He grunted and went back to his work. She watched him for a few moments, feeling the ship sway beneath her feet and hearing the swish of the waves on the other side of the hull. She breathed in, “I’m not here for that.” Dort hefted a load that had to have been one of the Orc’s and paused, “What then?” She drew herself up, “I want to be on the trading wagon this time.” Dort’s husky laughter filled the lower decks of the ship. “A little thing like you? Skyrim is a harsh land, Relie, much more brutal than either Hammerfell or High Rock. You wouldn’t last a week.” He tossed the load on his shovel, which Relie conceded really was the most awful smelling she had come across in many weeks. “Besides,” he continued, “I’d rather have one of the Nord slaves along. I’d break you in one thrust.” Even so, she saw him lick his lips as his eyes wandered over her body. She had a few other strategies she could use, but she felt her chance slipping. “I’ll do anything, Dort, please. Let me ride with you and Falnuin.” She quickly sucked in breath. Everyone aboard knew that Dort would be going but it was not common knowledge that Falnuin would joining him. But Dort did not understand the significance of what she had said, so blinded was he by his lust. An ugly smile slowly spread across the Redgaurd’s face. “Anything? Truly, little Brit?” She nodded. He came over and before she knew what was happening, he bent her over roughly. “Well then, let’s take you for a practice round. If I break you here, we can throw you overboard with the rest of the shit.” In a few moments, Relie had tears running down her cheeks and she bit her bottom lip until blood ran down her chin but she would not cry out. She would not give this man the satisfaction of knowing how much hurt he was giving to her. Many times she was tempted to cry out for him to stop, but this was her ticket out and she would be on that wagon. No matter the cost.  
* * *  
Dort had some trouble the next day convincing the captain that Relie was the slave he and Falnuin wanted to take with them to trade with the Stormcloaks. The captain knew how good of a worker the Breton was, among the best he had ever owned and he was loath to part with her. Seeing her limp during her chores that morning, he had guessed that Dort had already had his fill of her sometime the night before. Not that it wasn’t allowed aboard his ship. But Dort was a monster of a man, his chest wider than that of an Orc, if his stature was shorter. The captain had seen Dort kill other women in a single session of his passion. Yet somehow this little thing had survived him. Finally he had relented, with the condition that if she died on the journey, Dort would compensate the captain the slave’s value from his own yearly wages. Dort had hesitated then. He loved his gold almost as much as he did breaking women. Relie caught him looking her way, his hand rubbing his chin. Though the ache in her hips almost made her faint, she spread her legs, running a finger between them. She winked at him from across the deck. Dort turned back quickly and shook the captain’s hand, “Done!” he said. He was so busy going to load the wagon that he did not see Relie turn and catch herself. Her hands curled over the railing of the ship, her breaths coming in quick sharp gasps. 

* * *  
A week later, Relie drove the wagon into the Stormcloak camp near the border of Skyrim and Cyrodiil, with Hammerfell. She rode in the wagon...alone. It had been necessary to relieve the stress on the horses and so she had dumped some unwanted baggage in a cluster of forest not long after she, Dort and Falnuin had reached Skyrim. There was a traveling band of Hagravens who had been very anxious to aquire Redgaurd liver for a particular potion they were making. When Relie had told them she had some for free, they squawked with delight. The men looked at her in shock when she jumped down and told the creatures the two men were as fresh as could be found and they were for free. Relie batted not an eyelash as Dort and Falnuin’s screams died away as the strange creatures fell upon them and hacked their bodies open to recover what they sought. With blood dripping down their hands and arms, the Hagravens waved at Relie in thanks.  
Now Relie was on her own, to go where she would. As she drove the horses upon the road and breathed in the scent of the trees, she thought of her time being a slave on the ship. She had been on the trading vessel for the past five years, an eternity from which she had learned the art of trade and the value of the various metals that there could be in all of Tamriel. She would deliver the goods to the Stormcloaks and take the profit for her own. She looked over at the sound of a man struggling with a horse. What did he think he was doing? Did he really thinking he would get away stealing the animal from the camp? She shrugged her shoulders, it really was none of her business. She shook the reigns a little and walked the horses and her wagon into the Stormcloak camp.  
* * *

“Stop struggling, you were attempting to provide weapons and food to the Stormcloaks, which makes you just as guilty of their cause.” Relie continued to squirm against her bonds, a frightened look crossing her eyes. “But I am a Breton from High Rock and—” “Save it, little lady. You’re working with the Stormcloaks and you’ll face the same fate as they.” The Imperial guard called out then to a man sitting atop a giant horse, “General Tullius, we are prepared to begin.” “Fine,” the man said in a thick accent, “drive this pathetic lot to Helgen where they will be dealt with for their treason.” And so Relie went from trading vessel slave to political prisoner. The horse thief was among them, she could take some small amount of satisfaction about that. She looked around her as the wagons began to move towards their destination. The land here was very much like that of High Rock—tall pine trees, snow capped mountains and the occasional sabre cat. The huge beasts sometimes wandered into the far west of Skyrim and across the border into High Rock. The town guards of Jehanna had more than once been called out to either exterminate the cats or else drive them back into Skyrim.  
She sighed as she heard the same familiar bird song that she had heard as they traveled about the lands and came into the various ports of Tamriel. The birds did not care about politics and of kings and borders. They were free to make their homes where they pleased. She thought she would have liked it here in Skyrim but as the wagons passed into Helgen, she knew she would never get that chance now. Her focus snapped to attention as they stopped. “No, wait, you can’t do this!” The horse thief cried. “I am not a Stormcloak; you’re not going to kill me!” Like a crazy man, he let out a holler. Even with arms tied behind his back, he burst through the throng of solders. He might have made it had the Captain of the guard not called for her archers. The thief took two steps more and fell with Imperial steel embedded in his back. The Captain and her aid, an Imperial that Relie had learned was named Hadvar, turned back to her. “Captain, what do we do? Her name is not on the list.” “There are no exceptions, she goes to the block along with the others.” Hadvar seemed genuinely saddened as he turned back to her. “I am sorry prisoner, file in with the others whose names have been called.” She walked over to where Ulfric and half dozen of his Stormcloaks were waiting before the executioner’s block. General Tullius walked before them and faced the Jarl of Windhelm.  
“Ulfric Stormcloak, some here in Helgen call you a hero. But a hero doesn’t use a power like the Voice to murder his king and usurp his throne.” Relie’s jaw dropped. What!? She thought. She had not known this when the contract had been signed with her captain and the crew had gotten underway. This man killed the king in Solitude? She eyed him with accusation. If he had simply been a rebel, perhaps the Imperials would not be about to take her head as well. But she now saw that she was seen as someone who had aided this man in killing the king of Skyrim. What type of man was this? What type of people would follow such a person? What was the voice? Relie had never heard of that type of magic before. Tullius’ voice became harsh and then ripped her back to the present. “You started this war, plunged Skyrim in chaos and now the Empire is going to put you down and restore the peace.”  
Relie supposed she was being executed in the name of justice, but it seemed a cruel fate to have fought so hard to escape a living death only to find herself faced with the real thing. She cursed herself for wanting to leave the ship. If she had stayed, she would have continued to suffer but at least she would be alive another day. Relie did not flinch as the heads of the Nord men tumbled away from their shoulders, but she pitied the women standing around. Beheading seemed so barbaric a death for women. Soon it was her turn. As she walked to the block an odd sound ricocheted throughout the hills and filled the sky. It was a noise she had never heard before. It was like thunder, combined with fear and wrapped in all her nightmares all at the same time. Then, without warning, a shape blotted out the sun and came down upon one of the towers of Helgen. It had wings and breathed fire. She looked up from where she knelt. Could it be true? One word formed in her mind and she hardly dared to think it—Dragon! She did not have time to wonder long as the beast was preparing to spit its flame. She stood but seemed unable to move. Was she about to roast in Dragon fire? Then, as she saw the flame in the beast’s open maw she felt herself lifted and spun behind a wall. The flame poured past her incredibly, indescribably hot and yet somehow she was till breathing. She felt herself released and she turned to face the Imperial named Hadvar. “Follow me prisoner if you wish to live!”  
* * *  
Hadvar slammed the door shut but they both could still here the sounds of the battle raging on the other side. “Quickly, follow me,” he said and began leading her deeper into the stronghold. As they went into the belly of the structure the Dragon’s cries and fire followed them. Hadvar outfitted her with a few weapons and some Imperial gear that would fit her, which was not easy to find a man as small as she was. The smallness of her stature made it difficult to find just the right fit but eventually Hadvar found some that did not hang too terribly loose upon her frame. Along their flight they came across a few of the Stormcloaks running out of an adjacent corridor. They pulled their weapons and with ugly faces came at them. Hadvar put up his free hand, “Stop! This isn’t what I want. Right now we need to work togeth—” “Imperial dog!” one of the Stormcloaks shouted, interrupting him. “Death to the Imperials,” the other said. Hadvar had just enough time to withdraw his hand before on of them whisked an ax at it with enough force to surely cleave it away from his arm.  
Relie was disgusted by the stupidity of the situation. They were all in very real danger and if they could put aside their differences, they all might make it out alive. But instead they would rather squabble in the mindset of their damn civil war. She didn’t care one way of the other about Imperials or Stormcloaks but it seemed that this Imperial before her was her best hope of getting out of Helgen. The others had clearly made their choice. She ripped out the two swords that Hadvar had found for her and cut down two of the men before anyone could think twice. With a quick flick of his wrist, Hadvar severed the windpipe of the last soldier. Then he was shoving her slightly, “get what gear from them you want and let’s keep going.” The last soldier was clutching at their throat with one hand and ripped off the helmet with the other to try and breath more easy. Relie was shocked to see it was a woman. She stripped the male soldiers completely and she did take the woman’s gold, but left her fully clothed. Hadvar, noticing that Relie’s hands had not touched the woman’s armor began to bend down, “here, allow me then. This is good armor and if we get out of here, it will fetch a good price and help you get to wherever you are going.” Relie gently put her hands on his wrists and he stopped to look at her. “No, let this one be.” “Why? You had no trouble taking the men’s possessions.” Relie nodded slightly and whispered, “but this one is a woman.” Hadvar stood and walked off slowly, “Well whatever. Let’s go then.” As he quickened his pace he looked back to see a small Breton reach out and touch the Nord’s cheek. “I’m sorry,” she said softly, then rose and followed him through more of the maze that hopefully would lead them both our of Helgen.  
* * *  
Through spider infested corridors and bear teeth and claws, Hadvar led Relie safely through the perils that laid underneath the stronghold. As they ran out into the sunlight, the Abomination soared over them and into the distance. “It looks like we were lucky this time,” Hadvar said. He turned to her, “It is probably best that we split up. But if you happen to make your way to Riverwood, I have family there. I’m sure they would help you out.” As he turned to walk away she grabbed his arm. “Wait a minute. I almost died on the block back there and then we both almost died by the fire from a creature that isn’t even supposed to exist. Shouldn’t we enjoy life a little before going our separate ways?” Hadvar huffed impatiently, “it is not time for mead, Relie.” He had said her name so gently that she thought he genuinely regretted his words. “Besides,” he shrugged, “I don’t have any on me.” Relie smiled and backed away a few paces. Her hands went to the buttons and straps of her armor. “It’s not mead that I want, Hadvar.” She let the shirt fall to the ground, her nipples becoming hard quickly as the cold wind touched them. Hadvar stood where he was and hesitated. When he opened his mouth to protest she beat him to it, “Please,” she said, “you saved me and you didn’t want to send me to die on the block in the first place. I want to make you feel as alive as I do right now.” She knew that Hadvar wasn’t like Dort and Falnuin; he wasn’t a brute that would hurt her and use her as just another piece of meat. She went to him, intending to slide his pants off, when she was surrounded by his strong arms. She felt his power in those arms, not a crushing force, but warm a secure against her bare skin. She was surprised as he laid her on a rock fairly far above him. He pulled her legs to either side of his face and her eyes widened as she realized what he was about to do. Did he really mean to…? He slid the garment from around her waist and down her legs, leaving her boots on her feet. Her mind pounded as if the executioners ax had already made contact as she felt Hadvar’s tongue give her body a glancing blow. She looked up at the sky and could not remember a time it had been so blue. He slid the tip of his tongue down to her opening and back up to her mound, and all the aches she had felt over the past few days melted away at his soft touches. Her body began to shake and she felt his grip on her tighten. Yet she noticed that he was still careful not to hurt her. She cried out a little as he pushed his mouth onto her and back to suck as well as lick. She thought he would stop soon like all men did but even after two orgasms had rocked her, he continued. As she crept high upon her third she finally, with shaking limbs, lifted herself to watch him. When she tried to speak, at first it was nothing but a gasp and in the next moment she found her voice. “Hah—Had—Hadvar, stop, please.” At his surprised look, she giggled, “Don’t forget to take your pleasure as well.”  
The Imperial did something then that she thought remarkable. He came up on the rock with her, but instead of dominating over her, he picked her up, turned and laid on the rock himself, positioning her atop himself. She undid his garments and noticed he was watching her hands carefully. The thought then occurred to her that he would only take his pleasure if it pleased her to allow him to do so. Something burned in her stomach and someplace lower, something raw and pure with ravenous hunger. She had despised love making with all men aboard the ship but she found that this was one she lusted for. Her tiny hands gripped him. She felt him twitch and pulse as she slid her hands up and down his length and felt a deep moan rumble in his chest. It was true that she had been used for such many time before but his man she wanted, really wanted to have her skills. And soon she was on top of him and there, outside the burning ruins of Helgen and as they finished their ecstasy, the smoke from the burning buildings floated lazily above them.  
* * *  
After they had dressed, Hadvar asked Relie to come with him to Riverwood. She shook her head slightly as she fastened her tunic back into place. “No, Darling, I must forge my own way in this new freedom of mine. What we just shared was more special that anything I’ve ever had with a man. But I cannot belong to you. I am not going to belong to any man.” At his downcast eyes, she came and nestled within his chest and he brought her close. “I am sure we will see each other again someday.” Hadvar looked around them, “But you will die out here by yourself.” That made Relie smile and she looked up at him. “Do you think a woman of such fortitude would die out here all alone?” Hadvar cleared his throat and shuffled his feet as he let go of her. Relie laughed, the first time she could remember doing so and it almost made her cry. She reached up and pulled his face to look at her. “No matter what happens, I want you to know that you are a true man, a good man. Keep safe in this war and someday I will find you again.” Hadvar allowed his head to be brought down and his lips found hers. She stepped back after awhile and looked at the ground. “I you come to any of the Imperial camps around the land, just tell them my name and they will treat you well.” She nodded and she held back the urge to cling to him. “Now, go,” she said. When she looked up her belly tightened to see him leave. She wanted more than anything to call him back. But she was on her own now and she would find a way. She turned back to Helgen and walked toward a cluster of trees upon its right side.  
* * *  
Relie made sure she stayed within view of the towers of Helgen. It was the last place she wanted to be, but one of the few places she knew in this land. However much she loathed it for bringing her perilously close to the end of her journey, it also had brought her face to face with the opportunity for a new life. And so she kept it in sight, for though is was horror, it was also familiar, and a shroud of despair, she reasoned, was still better than nothing in a land of bitter cold. She knew she must find shelter but at least she had food. She felt for the apples that Hadvar had quickly thrown in her sack. She found them pressing at odd angles into her back. She would save them until she was really hungry. Relie crossed a road that led to the south of the stronghold and she stumbled up the side of a snowy bank upon the other side. She would feel more safe the higher she went. It was an odd feeling but ever since she had come to this land she felt the urge to find the highest peak and climb it to its top-most point, if for no other reason than to have conquered the Throat of the World.  
Relie had no time to deliberate further as she heard a snarl and saw two huge, black wolves running straight at her! She cursed herself for letting her guard down. Of course there would be wild animals out here, had she not seen sabre cats from her seat in the Imperial wagon? She quickly scanned the rocks about the area to see if any would shelter her from the fangs and claws that drew near. She started to move when the wolves let out angry snarls and came to a stop. Relie saw a scraggy mutt of a hound. Its fur was completely wet and clumped with mud but it stood between her and the wolves. Then in a few blinks of the eye, the hound had the wolves running away. It caught one of them and threw its jaws around its neck and held until the animal no longer moved. Then, with blood still in its mouth, it came trotting over to her, its bloody tongue hanging out. Relie dropped to a knee, “Come here, boy, come on.” The hound came to her and began licking at her hands hungrily. She did not care that the blood of the wolf was now on her hands. “Well, Handsome,” she said, “where are you from? Are you a stranger here as well?” She stood and the hound looked at her expectantly. “Where should we go?” she said with her arms stretched out to her sides, the palms open. The dog barked once and then pranced upward towards a cliff of rock with nothing apparently noteworthy about its appearance. Relied nodded doubtfully, “That way, huh?” After a short climb they came to the entrance of a cave, which was concealed unless one knew where to look. Relied reached down and scratched the mutt behind the ears. “Good boy,” she whispered. There was only one problem. The other wolf had circled around and stood between them and the entrance. The hound’s hackles rose and Relie brought a hand down to touch his shoulders. “Stay,” she whispered, “good dog.” She took out the bow that Hadvar had taken off of one of the Stormcloaks they had killed in Helgen. She notched an arrow and let it fly it sailed straight and true, hitting the wolf directly between the eyes. No Elf could hope to do better. They walked past the dead wolf and out of the cold into the inviting warmth of the cave.  
* * *  
After they had fought off four more wolves, some gray and some black, they found a freshwater spring the bubbled through the cave. Relie cupped her hands, dipped them in the water and drank deeply. The frigid temperature of the liquid made her teeth ache, but it was the purest water she had ever tasted in her life. It had been days since she had drank anything at all and her stomach gurgled and became upset by the chill waters. Relie realized it had been some time since she had eaten as well. She had planned on saving the apples for later but now, with the carcasses of dead wolves about her, seemed like good a time as any. She sat down on a small ledge that the spring cascaded down from and opened her sack. The mutt had wandered off somewhere in the expanse of the cave and she was secretly grateful. Right now she needed only one mouth to feed.  
She wolfed down two of the three apples that were in her pouch and was about to eat the third as well when she stopped herself. No, she thought. She needed to wait; who knew where the next meal would come from? A single apple was not much but it was better than starvation. She grudgingly put it back in her pack and stood. The mutt was down a bit farther in the cave, gnawing on some bones scattered about. She gulped as she saw the two half-decomposed bodies down there and realized it must be human bones the mutt was licking. Then her eyes settled on the chest. She quickly started towards it. Dare she hope for anything inside? She jogged down towards it, feeling better having something in her belly. She stopped and slowly approached the chest, making sure there were no traps set there for an unsuspecting stranger like herself. Instead of risking a hand, she positioned herself in front of it and kicked it, hard. The chest fell backwards and opened, spilling its content. Relie let out a startled cry. The bottom of the chest had been littered with gold! It wasn’t a lot but it was enough to feed her for a week at any decent tavern she was sure she would come across as she traveled farther into Skyrim. Perhaps it would even afford her a few nights’ sleep in an actual cot. She got down on her knees and scooped the coins with both hands into her pack. She was feeling better about her odds in this land. Within hours of escaping the most horrific terror she had ever known in her life, she had bedded a good man, been saved by a courageous hound, proven to herself that she was a decent shot with a bow and could find both water and gold. Her smile faded as she saw that one of the bodies was a woman. She crawled over and put a hand to the cold flesh of its cheek, the only one the rotting corpse had left. I know you did not deserve this fate, she thought, I am so sorry. She then hoisted the pack, which now rang with the new found coin and called the mutt to her. The dog came, if a bit unwilling to leave his bones. “Good boy,” she said, “Let’s leave them lie at peace.”  
* * *  
Once out of the cave the dog ran off after a rabbit. Relie tried to call him back but it was no use. He rounded a bend of rock and was gone. As she panned the landscape around her, she wondered if she should wait for him to return. He did save my life, after all, she reminded herself. She giggled slightly at the thought of giving the mutt the same reward she had given the last person who had saved her. She shook her head, clearing the thought of literal doggy-style from her mind. She traced the tops of the mountains with her eyes and searched above for any trace of the Dragon flying through the clouds that had come to dot the morning sky.  
Her attention was drawn to a female elk walking across the snow. Relie licked her lips as she saw its powerful flank and thought of venison. She shot almost without care and did not take time to aim. Perhaps it was her will or her need that directed the shaft as it flew uphill to take down the strong animal with one iron arrow. She lowered her bow and praised herself, for of course only the skill of amazing archer could have brought down such a creature. It occurred to her, as she stood there in the snow, with the bow still in her hand, that something else was required. Relie sighed and began walking up towards her kill.  
An hour later, as the sun was riding high above the mountains around her, she put the chunks of raw meat in her pack. With a belly full of snow melt and her last apple she could not bring herself to eat raw meat. Not yet, anyway. She turned and called for the mutt a few more times. She was sorry to leave him behind but he was clearly at home in these hills. At the least, he knew where the cave was for shelter and his...bones. She shuddered at the idea of the mutt slowly ripping the bodies apart to get at more tasty selections.  
She did not know in what direction the Imperials had brought her and she did not know where the town that Hadvar had spoken of was. Like a true man, he had not stopped long enough to think to give her directions. She laughed inside a little at this. Meet me at Riverwood, she remembered his voice. It must be somewhere fairly close by for him to mention it to her, but surely he did not think that she was a stranger in this land and the names of places did not mean anything to her.  
She starting walking up, and eventually she was above the entire stronghold of Helgen and was looking down into it. For the first time she saw the devastation wrought by the Dragon. Relie’s shoulders slumped as she saw how many brown and blue uniformed bodies were littered throughout the courtyard. Yesterday, both armies in this civil struggle had lost many sons and daughters. She trudged on and, unwillingly, left the towers of Helgen behind and into the unknown.  
Eventually she came upon another road. A hunter, who was crossing into some dense forest, told her about a town called Riften. He suggested that she see if her services were needed with the Jarl there. Relie thanked him and had begun marching on down the road when he gripped her shoulder. In his heavy Nord accent he said, “Just a minute now, those in this land know that those who give a good turn to those in need deserve a gift of gratitude.” She smiled, “Of course, how rude of me. Here take this with my thanks.” She dug into her pack and brought out four gold pieces. The hunter eyed the gold but slowly shook his head, “no, it is not gold I be talking about.” Relie’s smile faded instantly. She dipped her hand back into her pack, replacing the coins with the others. She sniffed once and nodded, “Very well.” He came towards her but he put a hand up to stop him. “Turn around, friend, and I’ll stroke you from behind.” The Nord chortled in his throat, “Ah, a kinky one, eh? I love a challenge!” he turned and then looked around them, “Wait, here in the road?” “Well, I understand if you’re too small and you don’t want others to see—” “Alright, alright,” he said quickly and turned, “by the gods, you’re a feisty one.” He had scarcely turned when a great fire rose up inside of Relie. This was not the fire of passion and desire, but something dangerous and it seared white hot in her chest and mind. In one fluid motion she took both arrow and bow from her back and pulled the string, sending an arrow into the back of the hunters neck. As it flew out the front, he collapsed on the ground and as his lifeblood drained away, staining the snow crimson. She bent over him, “I am not sorry for that.” She looked up as a horse nickered loudly. It had walked towards them a little while she was busy killing. She looked back at the dead Nord and quickly walked towards the animal. Well well, she thought, it appears the horse thief and I have more in common than I thought.  
* * *  
Relie walked her horse in the direction that the hunter had told her was the town of Riften. She wondered what sort of place it was—perilous surely, but rich or poor? What sort of people would she find there? Hopefully no Redguard men. After Dort she just couldn’t stand the sight of them. At least Falnuin had been more gentle with her. She heard the coin in her pack shift and a contented smile broke out over her voice. Whatever type of a place it turned out to be, it was sure to have a dry place for her to sleep for the night, with a roaring hearth...and plenty of mead. By the Divines, she could afford mead! She could almost feel the golden brew sliding down her throat and taking away all the years of pain and hurt…  
She looked around her as she came out of the hills and marveled. She had crossed a pass full of ice and snow and into a forest of trees with red and golden leaves. She grabbed at a low hanging branch and plucked one of the leaves from the limb. She ran her thumbs over its velvety surface and lifted it to her face, breathing in its scent. Was Riften such a place as this? What little of this land she had seen, this reminded her the most of High Rock, what little she had known from the deck of the ship. She hoped that she would not have to cross out of this landscape before she reached her destination.  
* * *  
Relie had taken time to dip her feet into the lakes of the land and walk around in its grass. She did not realize how long she had been away from the road until the sun’s evening light stretched across her face. She mounted the horse and though she went more quickly now, it was soon night. Even with the temperatures cooling, it was not nearly as cold as it had been at Helgen and Relie found herself falling in love with this land all the more for that. A warm draft of air pushed up from the North, which she found odd since she knew that Skyrim’s northern coasts plunged into the Sea of Ghosts. Even so, she welcomed the relative warmth of the night. It made her feel sleepy and she hoped she would soon reach the comforts of Riften.  
“Well, isn’t this a surprise,” a voice said out of the darkness. It was not harsh, but said in a casual, conversational tone. Relie looked around her and saw many shapes had closed in around her. She cursed herself again for letting her guard down. She would have to work on not allowing herself to become to easily distracted. As she looked around her, she could see that most were heavily armed. “Please,” she said, attempting to keep her voice even, “It has been a long day and I am just trying to reach the town of Riften.” This sparked some muttering between those that surrounded her. The one who had first spoken came up to her and began patting the horse’s neck. “We have no love of the Stormcloaks, stranger, but Imperials are not welcomed in Riften these days.” For a moment Relie did not understand what the man was talking about. Then she remembered whose armor it was she wore and what it represented.  
Relie hated that she was being judged by what she wore and not by who she was. “I am not an Imperial, but a Breton. I’ve come to Skyrim to enter into trade with her holds and the traveling merchants herein.” The man below her laughed, “Well, hear that friends? This lady has come to trade with us!” There was laughter all around, which Relie thought was rather harsh and unkind. “Now then, my lady, let us see what is in your pack and we will tell you what we want and what price we are willing to offer for them.” Someone behind her reached up and shook a corner of her pack and, without thinking, Relie turned and slapped the hand. No one was laughing anymore. “Well now,” the man at her side said, “That was rather rude of you, stranger. Come to think of it, you say you’re from High Rock?” “yes, that’s right.” “Then how did you get Imperial armor? And that bow you carry, it is not the kind the Imperials use. It’s actually the kind I see the Stormcloaks using.” Relie could feel the tension in the air and the man’s voice became hard, “Just how did you say you came by your goods, Honey?" Without thinking, Relie lifted a boot and smashed it into the face of the man and cried out for the horse to bolt and she was off past them. A huge man darted on the path ahead of them. It was so dark, she could not see what race he was, but in his hands was an enormous war hammer. She tried to time a jump that would take her safely past him but she misjudged his swing. In one moment she and the horse were sailing through the air. In the next, Relie heard the gut-wrenching sound of metal and splintered bone. The horse fell in a heap of twisted, broken limbs, sending Relie sprawling to the ground. It was an awkward landing and did not allow for her to rise quickly to her feet.  
She looked back as the horse cried out in pain, moving its broken body and trying to rise once more. She watched as the huge man walked up to the beast with the huge weapon in his hands. “No!” she screamed. She watched as the man brought his weapon down once more. The horse’s head jerked to one side, half of its skull coming away with the swing and the poor creature lay still. She heard the man she had kicked, yell something to the others and knew she had to get away as quickly as she could. She half rose and looked around but all was pitch blackness. She would not allow herself to be captured and made a slave again. She would rather die than have to live that life once more.  
Out of the corner of her eye she saw a flicker of light. She focused on it...yes, it was a fire! For all she knew it was the camp of the robbers that were trying to steal from her, but it was the only other option to running blindly into the dark. She was sprinting then towards the light. Angry shouts came from behind and a few arrows embedded themselves in the trunks of trees close to her body. She was already halfway to the fire , the distance not as great as she had feared. She ran up a hill and her heart caught in her throat. There, riding high above the flames, flapped the insignia of the Imperial Legion! Three more arrows hit the ground all about her feet and she took off again as fast as she could climb. “Help!” she cried, “Help me!” “Stop her! Quickly, you fools, before she alerts the Imperial scum!” Relie could see figures in the camp now. They were running to arm themselves and were coming closer to her. “Help!” she cried waving her arms, “I am a friend of Hadvar of Solitude!” “Look alive men,” She heard someone in the camp call out, “Get that girl safely into the camp.” Relie almost smiled; she was going to make it! She took one more step and then an excruciating pain burst from somewhere high in her back. She fell with a cry, an ebony arrow protruding from between her shoulder blades. She did not have time to brace her fall and she hit the ground hard, her head bouncing off of the dirt. She felt herself being pulled by her legs back down the hill! She had fought so hard and failed. The arrow burned with every movement. She raised her head to look upon the flame she thought she would reach and, strangely, it looked like it was getting bigger, not smaller. She could not account for this as her mind was becoming fuzzy. She felt the flaps of a tent brush against her face. Someone tilted her head to the side and forced a flask between her lips. Whatever its contents, the liquid seared her throat and she began to sputter. Then she was fading to the sound of Imperial bowstring and the cries of the dying in the flickering dance of the firelight.


End file.
